


if you're the toast of the town (you and me forevermore)

by alrightamanda



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alrightamanda/pseuds/alrightamanda
Summary: High school reunions were created with people like Jon Lovett in mind, but that doesn't mean he's looking forward to going.
Relationships: Ronan Farrow/Jon Lovett
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	if you're the toast of the town (you and me forevermore)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Carsie and Ana for edits!  
This is a work of fiction and the subjects do not need to know about it.  
Title is from "New Year's Day" by Taylor Swift  
Enjoy!

High school reunions are for people like Jon Lovett. They are for people who never want to go back to high school and will never remember their time there in a positive light. They are for people who are driven in life by a desire, no matter how small: to be better than high school told them they were. 

Jon Lovett stares down at the invitation to his 20th High School Reunion and can’t help but grimace. High school reunions are made for people like him and all he feels is a bit of nausea at the thought of going back. 

“Hey, Ronan?”

“Yeah, babe?” Ronan responds from the living room where he’s working on edits for his latest investigative piece.

“We’ve been invited.”

“Are you going to tell me where? Do I need to get out my tux?”

“Don’t waste a tux on Syosset High School Class of 2000.”

“Oh?”

“My reunion is apparently being set for October. Should we go?”

Ronan puts his computer on the coffee table and turns to face Jon directly, “Do you want to go?”

“Are you trying to use your journalism voice on me?”

“Jonathan.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jon pauses as he considers his answer. “I think I want to go?”

“Are you asking me or yourself?”

“Both? I mean, I really have no desire to see my high school classmates again, but it’s just for one night. And what’s the point of being bullied in high school if not to come back twenty years later and gloat?”

“Well, I didn’t go to high school, so I can’t really say one way or the other, but if you want to go, then we’ll go. And if after ten minutes you decide you don’t want to be there, we’ll leave. In my personal, extremely biased opinion, I think this could be good for you. Even if it is so close after the wedding and right before the election.”

“Syosset, here we come.”

* * *

“Are you ready?”

Their Uber has reached the entrance to Syosset High and all they have to do is get out. Jon just has to open the door and get out. 

“Jonathan? If you don’t want to go, we can head back to the city. It’s completely up to you.”

Jon knows it’s up to him, but he appreciates Ronan for saying it out loud anyway. He was so sure that this was something he wanted to do. But now, sitting in front of the building that was home to some of his worst memories, he can’t seem to open the car door. 

‘ _ Just open the door. If you don’t want to stay, you can leave after showing your faces. You need to do this. Open the door. _ ’ He can do this. His therapist is right: it’s been twenty years and he can’t let what happened in high school hold him captive for his whole life. Going inside and seeing that people are more than just their high school selves will be good for him. Before he can talk himself out of it again, Jon opens the car door and climbs out into the brisk October night. 

* * *

The gym at Syosset High smells the same as it did twenty years ago. The floor is clearly new, the banners have been updated to reflect the various sports accomplishments over the last two decades, and the people milling around look more like staff than students, but the smell of a high school gym is unmistakable. 

Jon feels good walking into the gym. He’s wearing his nicest black jeans and a tight, burgundy sweater that he knows looks good on camera and shows off his broad shoulders and small waist. He actually put product in his hair. Syosset doesn’t deserve his best, but what’s the point of showing up in your hometown after two decades if you don’t look nice. 

Ronan looks beautiful as ever. He’s wearing a white henley under a navy blazer and dark jeans that could be considered slightly too causal if Ronan didn’t affect an air of composure at any public event. 

Jon knows that he and Ronan make a striking pair, walking in step through the gym doors.

Ronan’s hand is warm on Jon’s lower back. He looks over and smiles softly when he finds Ronan already staring back at him. Jon takes a deep breath and flexes his hands to release the tension he feels, his wedding band glinting in the fluorescent light.

They make their way over to the welcome table to sign in and grab their name tags. The two people working the table are exactly who Jon expected it to be: the former class president and secretary, both of whom organized the reunion. The former class president looks over from her conversation with her companion as Jon approaches, a brief moment of confusion on her face before recognition takes over, “Jon Lovett?”

Jon smiles slightly, “Hi Marcia. Sean, it’s good to see you both. I’m here to check us in and grab name tags.”

“Of course!” Marcia quickly reaches for blank name tags and a sharpie and hands them over to Jon to fill out, “You said your husband is with you? Do you want us to hold his name tag until he gets here?”

“No, he’s right behind me, “Jon turns his head and holds his hand out for Ronan to take, “Ronan, this is Marcia and Sean. Marcia was our class president and valedictorian and He was our class secretary. Marcia and Sean, this is my husband, Ronan.”

Ronan extends the hand that isn’t holding Jon’s for Marcia and then Sean to shake, “Ronan Farrow, it’s nice to meet both of you. Thank you for organizing the evening.”

Sean shakes Ronan’s hand with ease while Marcia looks at him with a gobsmacked expression, “Ronan Farrow? As in  _ Ronan Farrow _ Ronan Farrow?”

“As far as I know I’m the only Ronan Farrow.”

Marcia’s face lights up at his confirmation, “I love your work! I pre-ordered your last book and devoured it in a week! I never made the connection that the ‘Jonathan’ in your book was Jon here! That’s so exciting, congrats!”

Jon can feel a blush creeping up his neck at Marcia’s gushing. They had gotten along reasonably well in high school but they were from different social circles and were never very close. Jon knew this reaction would be a possibility tonight, but he wasn’t expecting it so soon. Lucky for him, Ronan remains cool under pressure and responds with an easy, “Thank you, that’s very kind of you to say. Tonight, though, I am just Ronan, Jonathan’s husband.”

“Of course! That’s so sweet. Well, enjoy the night! It was great to meet you and good to see you, Jon.”

“Good to meet you too.”

As they turn to walk away, Jon sees Marcia turn to Sean and, based on his reactions, launch into an explanation of who Ronan is and why she’s such a fan of his work. 

“Well! We’re off to a great start. Didn’t know your fan club organized my reunion.”

“Hush. This night is about you. I’m just your devoted husband tonight.”

“I know. I love you.”

Ronan takes Jon’s hand at the admission, running his thumb over Jon’s wedding band, feeling a thrill course through him at the physical reminder that they’re actually married. Ronan married him. Ronan, with all of his distrust of the institution of marriage, asked Jon to marry him anyway, to spend the rest of their lives together. Jon raises their clasped hands to his lips for a soft kiss to the back of Ronan’s hand.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

“No place I’d rather be, baby.”

* * *

After they check in and grab a drink and have a bit to eat, Ronan steps out to take a quick call from David Remnick, with the promise of returning soon. Jon makes his way across the gym towards the various mingling groups of people. A voice from the group to Jon’s right calls out, echoing in the room, “Jon Lovett!”

He turns towards the group and the voice is unmistakably attached to a woman, waving her hand to get Jon’s attention. He knows her. Jenn-with-two-N’s from homeroom. Her last name was Lipinski so they were always next to each other in the seating chart of every class they had together. They were never hang-out-outside-of-school friends but Jon had always counted her as a friend and ally throughout high school. They kept in touch until Jon moved to DC full-time in 2005 and Jenn moved to Rochester for grad school. She looks a bit older than her high school self, but so does Jon. Her light brown hair is cropped at her chin and her arms have more definition than they ever did in youth. At her side is a man who could only be her husband. He’s a few inches taller than Jenn, even with her heels on, a hand on her lower back, and a glass of wine in his left hand, wedding band clearly visible. He seems startled at his wife’s sudden exclamation but composes himself quickly as the rest of their group turns to look at Jenn and then at Jon approaching. 

Jenn seems completely unaware of the looks of confusion from the rest of her group as she hugs Jon tightly when he reaches her, “Jon Lovett, I am so happy to see you! It’s been so long since I last saw you! It had to have been before you left for DC. We got dinner in ’05 right before you left to work for Senator Clinton and I left for Rochester and I meant to visit but time got away from me. What can you do about it? Anyway, how are you? How did DC work out? I heard you were bringing a plus one, where are they?”

Jon knows why he always liked Jenn, her bubbly kindness puts you at ease even when you haven’t seen her in years. He smiles at her and tries not to pay much attention to the rest of the group clearly listening intently to their conversation, “I’m good, things are good. I ended up working for Senator Clinton for a few years and on her ’08 campaign before moving to the White House to write speeches for Obama for three years.”

“Hold up, you worked for Obama?”

The interjection came from someone who was done pretending they weren’t listening in on the conversation. Jon would recognize Matt Phelps anywhere. He could be on his deathbed and still know what Matt Phelps looked like. Matt has softened over the years, but the evidence of his jock past is still evident in his composure and mannerisms. There is a short list of people Jon did not want to see at this reunion, and Matt Phelps is one of them. On Matt’s left, completing the circle, are people that Jon places after a moment: Adam Walsh and Samantha Kerns had run in the same crowd as Matt in high school, but Jon never had the same antagonistic relationship with them as he did with Matt. 

“Hi, Matt, Adam, Samantha. How are you? It’s been a long time.”

To his credit, a slight blush appears on Matt’s cheeks at Jon’s careful pleasantries, “I’m good. Good. You said you worked for Obama in the White House?”

Jon could feel his spine straightening at the obvious interest from his former bully, “Yeah. I was there for three years in the first term.”

The interest of the group was palpable, “I worked on getting the ACA passed and did a lot on the 2008 Recession and the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. My real specialty, though, were the White House Correspondents Dinners. It was basically a long stand up routine and we would have so much fun writing it.”

“Man, that’s cool,” the sincerity in Adam’s voice surprises Jon. “I remember seeing a YouTube video a while back of one of Obama’s Correspondents Dinner speeches. I laughed so hard I cried when he talked about Celebrity Apprentice. Did you work on that one?”

Jon can’t help the grin that takes over his face, “Yeah, I wrote that joke with Judd Apatow, actually. He and I spent a lot of time together for that speech.”

“You know Judd Apatow? He’s got to be one of our most famous alums. Do you know anyone else cool? You have to meet cool people when you work for the president.”

“I met a lot of cool people while at the White House. I met Buzz Aldrin once and that was an experience I’ll never forget. It was some of the most rewarding work I have ever done. It wasn’t what I wanted to do forever though, so I moved to LA in 2011 and worked as a screenwriter for a few years.”

“Jesus, Jon, sounds like you’ve been busy,” Jenn says with wide eyes and a soft smile. 

“Yeah, it’s been interesting, that’s for sure.”

“What do you do now?”

“I’m still in LA mostly but I split my time between there and New York. I co-run a media company with a focus on podcasts and activism.”

“No way! I’ve been trying to get into podcasts more. My younger coworkers are always going on about them and they even wrote me a list of ones I should listen to first.”

“Not to promote my own media too much, but there are so many great podcasts out there, there really is something for everyone. If you ever want a recommendation I would be more than happy to give a few. We currently have fifteen podcasts and a few limited series that are still available for listening. They cover everything from politics to daily news to the global public health crisis to pop culture to foreign policy. I personally have one that’s a week-in-review comedy show.”

“Oh?” Matt’s wife interjects, “Is it something we would like?”

“I don’t know, but the numbers say people like it. We sell out shows around the country when we take my show and our politics podcast on the road.”

“Where do you even perform a podcast? A library?” Samantha asks with a laugh.

“Music venues for the most part. Performance halls. I took my show to Radio City last September and it sold out. It’s a show. You have it where shows take place,” Jon knows he’s bragging, but what a high school reunions for if not to brag.

“You sold out Radio City?” Jenn’s husband speaks slowly, with something akin to awe in his voice.

“I did my show there last September and then the year before we sold out our political panel show there as well. If you ever have a chance to go, I recommend it. It really is an incredible experience.”

“Sounds incredible.”

“You said your company does a lot with activism?” Jenn asks.

“Yeah, after the 2016 election we wanted a way to inform people on what was going on but also on how to get involved in politics. We’ve spent the last four years building an infrastructure to flip the house and the senate, state and local legislatures, fight gerrymandering, and protect voting rights across the country. We even created a voting portal to register you to vote, allow you to volunteer for candidates, donate money, and fill out a preliminary ballot so you know who you’re voting for and what they stand for, come election day.”

“That’s amazing, Jon. What an incredible use of your time and resources.”

“The best part is seeing and meeting all of the people who are trying to make a difference in the world. The activists and the students and the people just getting into politics who are all coming together to try to make our country better. It’s inspiring to see.”

Jenn has a fond smile on her face, “I’m happy you found your niche, Jon. You deserve happiness.”

Jon can feel his throat tighten at the sentiment, “Thank you, Jenn. That means a lot.”

Jenn holds his eye contact for another second before Matt asks, “So, Jenn said you were bringing a plus one, where is he? I’m assuming it’s a ‘he’, I mean we all knew you were gay in high school,” he adds with a laugh that stops short of humor, “Could he not make it?”

The slight glee in Matt’s voice gives away his desire for Jon to have shown up alone, for Jon to at least be lonely in his clear success in life, so as to ease the envy Matt feels in his stomach. 

Jon softens as he thinks of Ronan, stuck on the phone, a light smile tugging at his lips, “No, my husband is here with me, he just had to step out and take a call from his editor. He should be back soon.”

“Your husband? I didn’t know you were married.”

“Yeah, we’ve been together since 2011 but we finally got married a month ago,” Jon can’t help the goofy smile that stretches across his face. Sue him. He’s happy and in love. 

“Oh! Congrats, Jon! That’s wonderful!”

“Thanks Jenn, I’m very lucky to have him in my life.”

“I know what you mean,” Jenn’s husband agrees, placing his hand around his wife’s waist, kissing her cheek.

Matt’s wife, whose name Jon still doesn’t know asks, “You said he’s on the phone with his editor, is he a writer?”

“Sort of. He’s an investigative journalist. He writes for  _ the New Yorker _ and is working on a docuseries for HBO. Remnick just had a few questions to go over with him.”

“Would we know any of his work?”

Jon preens at the opportunity to talk about Ronan. If Ronan won’t do it then Jon sure will, “Maybe. He did a story back in 2017 that won him the Pulitzer.”

“Oh wow. That’s impressive. What was the story on?”

Before Jon can answer, he feels a familiar hand pressing into his lower back, and a tickle of breath on his neck as Ronan leans down to whisper in his ear, “Hey baby, I’m sorry that took so long.”

Jon turns his head to look at Ronan, drinking him in for a second, before leaning up to kiss him lightly. He pulls back after a moment and Ronan leans forward to chase Jon’s lips with his own, but Jon squeezes Ronan’s hip, reminding him that they’re not alone, no matter how much he wishes they were. 

Jon turns back to the group, shaking the haze of Ronan from his head, “Guys, this is my husband, Ronan. Ronan, these are classmates of mine from high school. This is Jenn and her husband and this is Matt and his wife and this is Samantha and Adam.” 

Ronan extends his hand that’s not on Jon’s back to shake the hands of everyone in the circle, “Nice to meet all of you. I’m sorry for my absence, my editor called and I had to speak with him about edits on a piece I’m writing.”

Jon leans back into Ronan’s hand as Jenn repeats the earlier question, “Jon was just talking about your work, actually. He mentioned that you won a Pulitzer back in 2017 and we wanted to know what the piece was on?”

“He’s too modest to talk about his work, but I’m not,” Jon says with a laugh as Ronan blushes. “Ronan was the reporter who broke the Weinstein story at  _ the New Yorker _ . He wrote the take downs of Eric Schneiderman and Les Moonves over at CBS as well. He even wrote a book about it all and he has his own podcast on his investigative work.”

“Jonathan.”

“What? I’m very proud of you and how hard you work.”

Ronan chuckles softly, kissing Jon’s curls. 

“You wrote the Weinstein piece?” The awe in Adam’s voice is palpable. 

Ronan, ever humble, clarifies, “I wrote the piece in  _ the New Yorker _ . Megan Twohey and Jodi Kantor broke it first a few days before me in  _ the New York Times _ . And the real heroes are the sources who risked everything in coming forward. They did an incredibly brave thing and I’m forever grateful to them for that.”

Jenn and Samantha both relax slightly at Ronan’s words, the awe in their eyes not fading in the slightest. 

“So how did you two meet?”

“Well it’s kind of a long story, if you really want to hear it.’

“Yeah, why not.”

* * *

_ “Farrow! Nice of you to finally show up!” _

_ “Sorry, Nick,” Ronan apologizes to his coworker as he slides into his seat at the State Department’s table at the Correspondents Dinner, “I lost track of time at the office and then I had to shower before I could even think about showing my face here. What’s happened so far? Anything good?” _

_ “Not much. Some introductory speeches. Seth Meyers is going on after the President. Trump is here. I hope Obama and Meyers both give him shit for the whole birth certificate thing, that was insane.” _

_ “Yeah I hope so. I heard Obama’s speech is going to be good.” _

_ “Me too. His speechwriting team is at the table two down from us, and they’ve been looking somewhere between anxious and smug all night.” _

_ “Well, the President has great comedic timing. If they wrote a good speech it’ll bring the house down.” _

_ ‘Brought down the house’ is the only way the President’s speech could be described. With each landed joke and laughter from the crowd, the speechwriting table only got louder and more raucous. By the end of the speech, they were on their feet, cheering with the rest of the room. What surprised Ronan however, was that instead of cheering for the President, they all turned to one of their own, clapping and whistling as the man bowed dramatically, laughing at their attention and praise.  _

_ The man was young, definitely under thirty, but older than Ronan. He had a baby face with cheeks that scrunched and dimpled when he smiled and an infectious laugh that reverberated through the room. He was small, compact, with clear muscle definition through his suit pants and, Ronan could feel his face heating up at the observation, an ass that stretched the pressed material and looked mouth-watering, even in the low-light. His dark curls were cropped close, but they still looked tousled. He’s beautiful.  _

_ Ronan knew he was gay by the time he finished law school. He knew what he liked and he knew what his type was, but he had never looked at someone and just knew. Never looked at someone and felt a rush down his spine without even knowing who they were or anything about them. All he knew was this man had to be the mastermind behind the President’s killer jokes and Ronan needed to know him.  _

_ “Hey Nick, who’s that guy?” _

_ “The one Favreau is trying to lift onto his shoulders? That’s Jon Lovett. He’s the guy behind all of the President’s jokes. He won Funniest Celebrity In Dc last year. He might be the closest thing we have to a comedian in this humorless town. Why?” _

_ “No reason.” _

_ Nick looked over at Ronan with a knowing stare, “Would you like me to introduce you?” _

_ Ronan blushed, but nodded, letting Nick lead the way to the group of Obama bros surrounding Jon Lovett.  _

_ “Hello gentlemen, we just wanted to bring our humble congratulations from the State Department table. That was quite a show you put on.” _

_ “Hey Nick, Ronan! Thanks man, glad you guys enjoyed yourselves!” Ronan recognizes the blond who speaks up as Tommy Vietor, the NSC’s spokesman. He and Tommy had met a handful of times and Ronan always found his sarcasm and humility refreshing in a town determined to take itself too seriously.  _

_ Ronan could feel himself stepping forward to introduce himself to Jon Lovett, when suddenly the man in question backed his way out of the group.  _

_ “Lovett! Where are you going, man?” Jon Favreau almost whined as Jon moved to grab his coat.  _

_ “Sorry my boys, but I have a date and he’s already waiting for me!” _

_ Various groans went through the group at Jon’s words and Ronan felt a pang of worry. These men were all liberals but what if they didn’t - _

_ “C’mon, Lovett,” Tommy Vietor groaned, “Whoever he is, I promise that he’s not worth leaving right now! Just stay for a bit man.” _

_ They went back and forth for a few minutes before Jon Lovett finally made his grand escape, much to the dissatisfaction of the Obama Bros.  _

_ Ronan never got to introduce himself.  _

* * *

_ Ronan knew he had a crush. He had a crush and it was embarrassing but he couldn’t help it. With every new thing he learned about Jon Lovett his crush grew.  _

_ By the time September rolled around, Ronan had watched every speech Jon Lovett had written and even watched the routine that won him Funniest Celebrity in DC. He asked around and discovered that Lovett, on top of being a comedic genius, was the only gay speechwriter at the White House, and had worked for Secretary Clinton in her Senate office and her ’08 presidential campaign before moving to the White House. Ronan still felt that tug in his stomach every time he thought of Jon Lovett and he knew he had to find a way to meet him, for real this time.  _

_ “Hey Farrow! Did you hear?” _

_ “Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll tell me, Nick.” _

_ “Jon Lovett is leaving the White House. He’s moving to LA in January. His last day was today. He’s already causing a PR storm by joining Twitter.” _

_ Ronan felt like the floor was falling out from under him. He was running out of time. He pulled out his phone and opened the Twitter app, searching for ‘Jon Lovett’ and immediately seeing the profile pop up. The account was new, with only a few tweets and even fewer followers, but the number seemed to be growing by the second. Ronan couldn’t help but tweet at Jon, hoping to come off as flirtatious instead of creepy. It was only a few minutes later when the notification came in that Jon had replied. Ronan didn’t want to read too much into a Twitter interaction, but it felt like Jon was flirting.  _

_ “Farrow? You good, man?” _

_ “Yeah, Nick. I have to go. I’ll see you around.” _

_ Ronan walked off before Nick could respond, thinking up a response to Jon’s tweet.  _

* * *

_ Ronan and Jon had been messaging each other for about a week when Mandy Moore called to ask if Ronan would be on a panel she was hosting on civic engagement and foreign aid.  _

_ “I understand if you can’t make it, but Lovett already agreed to be there and I think having you would really round out the event and - ” _

_ “Wait, Lovett? As in Jon Lovett?” _

_ “Yeah, do you know him?” _

_ “Sort of. We have a lot of mutual friends and the Secretary speaks highly of him. Alright, I’ll be there.” _

_ “Thank you, Ronan! I’ll email you with the details! See you then!” _

* * *

_ Ronan can’t believe his luck. After six months and countless messages, he was sitting on a stage with Jon Lovett, listening to him talk about the need for foreign aide and diplomacy around the world. If Ronan didn’t already have the biggest crush on the guy, his passion and intellect would’ve sealed the deal.  _

_ After the Q&A finished, Ronan managed to corner Jon before he could duck out the back of the venue. _

_ “Jon? I know we’ve never formally met, but I just want to say I’m a fan of your work and I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner sometime? Or even just drinks?” _

_ Jon seemed startled by Ronan’s question, like he couldn’t believe Ronan was interested in him. He must have found Ronan to be sincere because he relaxed and smiled a soft smile that Ronan had never seen on him before. He hopes it’s just for him.  _

_ “I would like that very much.” _

* * *

“Aww! Jon, that’s so cute. I can’t believe Mandy Moore introduced you to your husband, what even is your life?”

“I know, I’m very lucky,” Jon agrees, smiling at Ronan, who kisses his cheek. 

“Sorry, what did you say your last name was again, Ronan? You just look very familiar,” Adam asks, breaking them out of their reverie.

“Farrow. Ronan Farrow.”

“As in - ”

“As in Mia Farrow, yes.”

“God, no wonder you’re so beautiful. I didn’t think you were real at first when you walked up.”

Ronan blushes heavily at Samantha’s admission and Jon can’t help the laughter that escapes him.

“It really is a crime that he’s so pretty and smart and talented and funny. I mean really, leave some for the rest of us!”

“All of me is already yours, Jonathan.”

Jon can’t think of anything sarcastic to say in response to the sheer earnestness in Ronan’s voice, and settles on kissing his shoulder and squeezing his hip. 

Jon wants to mingle a bit more before they go, so he turns to the group and says the pleasantries needed to extract themselves, hugging Jenn once more and promising to message her the next time he’s up in Rochester visiting his sister. 

The last thing Jon hears before they move to another group is, “Who knew Jon Lovett would have such a glow up? I mean I’m straight and married but he and his husband are hot.”

“I know, right? Good for them.”

“Amen.”

* * *

As they leave for the night Jon says one final good-bye to Marcia who’s also waiting outside for a car to take her home. 

“Thank you for putting this together, Marcia. I know Facebook has killed the high school reunion to a certain extent, but I enjoyed myself more than I thought I would.”

“You’re welcome, Jon. I’m glad you could make it. Are you staying in the area? I know your parents moved and you’re in LA now.”

“We’re actually headed back downtown. We have a place on the lower east side and our dog is probably begging to go out by now. But you’re still local, right?”

“I am. Jon, I know you’re probably busy, but if you’re in town and ever want to get dinner, let me know, okay? It would be nice to get into the city more often.”

Jon smiles softly at her, “I’d like that, Marcia. Here, let me give you my number and I’ll call you when we’re in town next. And if you’re ever in LA, text me.”

“I will. It was good seeing you, Jon. I know it might not be my place to say, but I know high school was hard for you, and I’m so glad to see that things got better for you. You seem really happy.”

Jon looks over at Ronan, scrolling through his phone, wedding band glinting in the street lights, waiting for their Uber to arrive and take them home. Home to Pundit and the life they fought for and built together. 

“Yeah. Me too.”

* * *


End file.
